


Advent Kitchen Adventure

by Reality 2_1 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_1
Summary: fluff set Advent 2015





	

She had dough on her nose, and he wasn't about to tell her. To him, she was always beautiful, but now, she was downright cute without even trying.

"I still don't get why you thought it was a good idea we try our hands at baking cookies," she said, shaking her head, scanning the chaos in what used to be tidy, rarely used kitchen.

"It's almost Christmas, you're home, I'm home, and one is never old enough to try something new."

It was that and the fact he knew the campaigning was weighing her down. Even a person with a cause she believed in, with the iron will to pull through needed a break from time to time.

They might never make great or even acceptable chefs, but he was sure her mind was with everything but the campaign at the moment.

"You and I in a kitchen – that just screams disaster, and you know it," she said with a smile.

Of course, she wasn't wrong, seeing that the first batch of cookies had been more black than golden brown while the second one looked perfectly fine but tasted more like plaster than cookies.

"How about we stop by the bakery later, buy some of theirs and pretend we made them?" he said.

They would visit their daughter and her family tomorrow, and she thought it was the plan to surprise their daughter and granddaughter with self-made cookies.

His wife raised an eyebrow. "They'll never believe us. But if we take a few of those there'll be no question who was the culprit." She nodded at the cookies still cooling.

"We could always try another batch."

She shook her head. "Not over my dead body."

"In that case, forget about it.” He bridged the short distance between the two of them, putting his hands on her shoulders before leaning in, kissing her.

“What now?” she asked.

“Nothing. Can’t I just want to kiss my lovely wife?”

“Of course, you can. Still, what do you want?”

“Still nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m wounded.”

“Don’t be, I know you.” She stepped closer, putting her arms around his waist. “No more baking. Promise me. We suck at this.”

He leaned his head on top of hers, taking a deep breath, feeling content and at peace. Ever since his surgery, he’d learned to appreciate the small moments, the times when it was just the two of them, and they actually had some time to waste. “I promise. So do you want to clean the kitchen now?”

She shook her head. “No. Any other suggestions?”

He chuckled. “A few.”

Stepping back just a little so he could whisper into her ear, he shared his ideas.

End.


End file.
